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From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Daddy's Little Whore Ch.7 by Rachael Ross (M/f, Teen, Prost, No Sex)
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Date: Mon, 07 May 2007 04:10:01 -0400
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Daddy's Little Whore

Copyright 2006-2007 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for
adults only.
Story Codes: M/f, Teen, Prost, No Sex

Note: This is the seventh chapter in a multi-chapter story and so you
should read the first 6 chapters first, or I fear this will make
little sense plot-wise. Also, this chapter is long, about twice as
long as the others, and I expected that, but I want to conform to my
established chapter lengths. So I am posting chapters 7 and 8
simultaneously and I hope you don't mind. -rr

Daddy's Little Whore
by rache

Chapter Seven - Ecstasy Part 1

Thursdays.

I love Thursdays, maybe more than any other except Sunday, and I
suppose my opinion really depends on which day of the week it is. But
This was Thursday and my reason for loving it was simply that I had
nothing to do that day, except go to school. My father went to work,
and that evening, it was just us. That's why I loved it...It was our
night together.

I'd been feeling it all night too, and I didn't know why. I was
wearing one of my dad's pajama tops, an old one, with no bra
underneath. It was big and loose and silky soft, and his. I loved it.
And just a pair of panties on underneath, which I used to do all the
time, just walking around in panties. But as I got older, I couldn't
really do it all the time, obviously. It made my dad uncomfortable
more than me, and so I just did it sometimes, when I felt like I
wanted to remind him that I was a girl. Not just a daughter, not just
the kid who lived upstairs, but an honest to goodness girl, who was
turning into a woman.

I wanted him to notice that so bad.

"Daddy?"

"Hmmm?"

We were sitting in the living room, watching TV but I couldn't tell
you what was on. I didn't care. I was curled up against him, my head
against my dad's chest, my hand on his stomach, just touching him. He
had his left arm over my shoulder, along my side and he was resting it
on my hip. That's all, just resting it there.

"Did you ever used to spank me?" I asked him, because I honestly
didn't remember him ever doing it.

"Spank you?" He smiled and shook his head slightly. "I don't know
where you come up with these questions, Sam.

I giggled at that, feeling very happy that he didn't know. "I was just
wondering. Did you?"

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe when you were two or three, but not hard.
Like a little swat on the butt, nothing that really made you cry."

"Oh." I nodded and sighed a little.

"Why?" My dad finally asked, like 3 minutes later, after it was clear
I wasn't going to explain on my own.

"I just wondered, that's all." I looked up at him. "I heard sometimes
a girl can use a good spanking."

My dad laughed, but he looked confused. "Where did you hear that?"

"Oh, I don't know. Dr. Phil I think? Or Oprah, it was some talk show."
I fibbed.

"Well, maybe they can." My dad grinned. "Got you thinking maybe you
needed one?"

"Me?" I laughed then. "No! Of course not, I'm always good, you know
that."

"Uh-huh." My dad nodded. "I haven't heard that since the last time you
were writing a letter to Santa."

"Well, maybe I should write him another one." I snuggled a little bit
closer, smelling my dad and closing my eyes. "Ask him for a pony
maybe."

"Heh." My dad hugged me, his hand pressing against my hip just where
it got soft and round and started turning into my ass. "I see now,
okay. So you're just using a psychology on your old dad, huh? You've
been so good I haven't had to spank you in ten years..."

"Twelve years." I interrupted him with a giggle.

"...Twelve years, okay, and so maybe you deserve a pony for all
that...goodness." He was smiling. "Is that it? Did I get it right?"

"Mmmm..." I wiggled my head. "...Mostly. Yeah."

"I'll think about it." My dad promised and that actually surprised me,
because that was practically a yes, coming from him.

"Really?" I stared at him.

"Yeah, I really will think about it." He chuckled. "That doesn't mean
go out and buy a saddle tomorrow."

"Oh Daddy!" I knew he hadn't said yes, but...wow! I was getting a
pony! "Thank you! I swear, I'll never ask for anything ever again!"

I sat up and hugged him tight burying my face in his neck and I think
it surprised him. My top was pulled up high as I lifted my arms,
exposing my thighs and panties, even my soft flat tummy. My dad's hand
moved to steady me on the thick cushions of our sofa and he grabbed me
right on the butt, his palm covering my panty covered ass and giving
me a good squeeze too. Not for long, just a few seconds until we both
realized where he was grabbing and then he let go quick, like I was on
fire, but I still held him. I kissed his neck, pretending that I was
thanking him for a promise he hadn't made, and my nipples were
burning. I could feel my boobs growing against him and my sex was
moist.

I couldn't help it. Mostly I could shut these feelings out; I could
pretend that I didn't have them. I'd have sex with someone else and
pretend it was him and it was like I got it out of my system. But
sometimes it was like this too, where I wanted him too much. I needed
him to kiss me and want me the same I wanted him. Like a wife, a real
one. And so I held him and I almost kissed him. My lips were so close
to his, just for a second, and I was looking into his eyes, but I
didn't see what I wanted to see in them. I saw love, yeah, I saw
uncertainty too, maybe fear or shame, I didn't know. But I didn't see
desire and I felt rejected and I let him go.

I'd ruined it. Our night together, I'd blown it. Daddy had been
uncomfortable after what had happened, enough that he'd decided to go
to bed. He gave me a kiss goodnight, he told me he loved me and we
both pretended that I hadn't just ruined everything. His had been an
honest mistake, just touching my body without any intentions but to
keep me safe. I'd been the one with the bad intentions and for a
second there we'd both known it, I was sure. He'd seen the look in my
eyes, felt my breath on his lips. He'd felt that weird electric moment
when you just know you're going to kiss...But I'd pulled back,
somehow, knowing he didn't want it. Now I just lay down on my bed,
curled up with a pillow between my legs, wishing I hadn't done that.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Hey." Jen whispered, giving me a little poke with her pen. We were
sitting next to each other in math class, and supposed to be working
on some problems off the chalkboard. Quietly, of course. So she tossed
a little folded up piece of paper on my open notebook.

I opened it slowly, keeping an eye on our teacher, Mr. Glass. He was
old and thin and he coached the girl's basketball team. He could also
be kind of strict.

"Party??? U dint ask me??" it said in Jen's slanted scrawl. She had
the worst handwriting...

I frowned because I'd told Heather and Debbie not to say anything to
anyone, especially not Jenny, but I hadn't really stressed that. It
would have been too suspicious. As it was I'd just told them the guys
having the party didn't want a whole bunch of kids showing up, party
crashers, you know. So I was supposed to keep it quiet. It seemed like
a good excuse, they'd believed it anyway. But I guess they'd said
something to Jen, because now she knew and of course she wasn't too
happy with me and it was only 8:15 in the morning.

I sighed, knowing it was gonna be a long day. Fridays always were.

I couldn't bring Jen to the party. I knew that. I loved her like my
sister, my little sister, and I was protecting her. She didn't want to
meet any guys, at least not the sort of guys who were gonna be at
Deke's place. I didn't know exactly what my boyfriend was planning,
but I could guess. He'd want to seduce my friends, most likely, get
them interested and in love, who knows? And then work on them to be
his girls, his little underage prostitutes. Heather might actually do
it, I thought. At least she seemed to have that sort of attitude, like
she was just dying to have sex. Not that she wanted to be a whore, but
I'm just saying it wouldn't be hard to get her panties off. The first
time anyway.

Debbie I wasn't so sure about, and I'd be keeping my eye on her. On
both of tem really, but especially on her. I didn't feel good about
what I was doing and I'd told Deke a bunch of times he had to be nice,
him and his friends, and if my two friends said no, that was it. If
they weren't having fun, then I was gonna bail and take them with me
and then I really would quit. I'd made that plain as day and I hoped
Deke believed me.

Jenny...I wasn't gonna bring her, I didn't care how mad she got. I had
to protect her.

"talk later, k?" I passed the note back and avoided looking at her as
much as I could, trying to concentrate on my geometry.

"So?" Jenny asked me. "What's the deal? How come you didn't invite
me?"

We were between classes, in the girls' bathroom and there were a few
other girls in there, but they didn't really pay us any attention.
People always used the bathroom to talk, mostly about boys since that
was the one place we knew boys couldn't overhear us.

"I don't think you'd like it, that's all." I shrugged. "It's not
really a party, it's like my boyfriend has some friends, you know, and
they want to meet some girls."

"So?" Jen frowned. "I could still go. You don't think they'd like me?"

"Jen..." I sighed. "...It's like a make-out party, you know? You meet
some guys, talk and kiss maybe, and just..."

"Make-out." Jen licked her lips. Everybody had heard of make-out
parties, but they were more like a myth, I thought. Or else they were
all make-out parties, since that's what people liked best, right? So
the words meant nothing really, except I hoped they scared her a
little. Jen had never been to one, I knew that, and I doubted she'd
want to.

"Yeah." I nodded. "And I don't even know how long we're gonna be
there. I mean if it sucks, or if Deb or Heather doesn't like it then
we're just gonna split, you know?"

"So? I could go then, right?" Jen stared at me and I groaned inwardly,
realizing I'd just offered her up an excuse on a silver platter.

"You wouldn't like these guys, Jen." I told her, trying to make her
understand.

"It's your boyfriend, right? I never even met that guy, come on, Sam!
Please? Why do you act all weird all the time?"

"I don't act weird," I laughed at her.

"Yeah you do, like I know you're not taking piano lessons after
school. I saw you getting into that car on Wednesday too, who was
that? Your boyfriend? He looked old." Jen was staring at me, and some
other girls too, since gossip was always fun. "Or your 'piano
teacher'?" Jen rolled her eyes and made little quotation marks with
her fingers.

"He was a friend of my dad's." I lied, trying hard not to blush with
embarrassment. He was actually a guy from Iowa, or someplace, who
really loved school girls and he'd paid a lot to pick me up after
school.

"Whatever." Jen was pissed at me. "You're just weird now."

"Yeah, okay." I shrugged. I was getting a little pissed too, but
mostly at myself really, but at Jen too for being so unreasonable.
"I'm weird." I grabbed my books and the bell was ringing anyway, so I
left her there. At least she wasn't coming to the party, which was one
good thing. The only good thing.

We sat together at lunch, Heather, Debbie, Jen and me, like always,
but Jen wasn't talking to me, which made it strange. And I was a
little mad at Heather and Debbie, cause one of them, or probably both
of them had told Jen about the party. And she knew now, so I didn't
bother waiting til I was alone with Heather and Deb, I just brought it
up.

"I'll meet you guys at the mall, right? At seven, by the movies,
okay?" I looked at Heather and Debbie and they nodded, glancing at Jen
who was looking unhappy as she chewed on her peanut butter and jelly
sandwich slowly.

"Yeah, sure." Heather shrugged.

"What should I wear?" Debbie asked me.

"Whatever you want, it's no big thing." I sort of waved my hand like
it didn't matter.

"But I mean like a dress, or jeans?" Debbie had obviously never been
to anything but some kid's birthday party, I thought.

I just laughed at her. "Whatever you want, seriously."

"Okay." Deb nodded, but she was worried about it. I guess I could
understand that though. "What are you gonna wear?"

"Me?" I looked at her and I made a face. "I don't know, I didn't think
about it yet."

"I'm gonna wear that new skirt I got." Heather said, looking at
Debbie. "You know that white one?"

"The short one?" Debbie giggled. "Your mom'll kill you."

"She knows I got it." Heather shrugged. "She won't even see me anyway,
they're going out tonight. It's like somebody's birthday or
anniversary or something."

"I don't see why I can't go." Jen finally said to me.

I glanced at our two friends, but they were talking about their
clothes and what Debbie should wear, they weren't paying much
attention to me or Jen.

"Next time, okay? I promise, just let me check it out first." I tried
smiling at her. "If anything happened to you, your mom would kill me."

"I got birth control pills you know." Jen said softly, because the
whole school didn't really need to know about that at all.

"Don't even, Jen." I shook my head.

"I'm just sayin', it's not like anything bad would happen right? And
you're there anyway, so..."

"No, please. Just trust me, okay?" I was begging her almost.

"If you were really my best friend, you'd take me, Sam." Jen said, and
that kind of really pissed me off, because I was being more of a best
friend than she'd ever know.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

We'd agreed to meet at the movies because it gave us all a good excuse
for going out for the night. I'd told my dad I was staying with Jen,
which was so normal he'd never check up on me or anything. Heather and
Deb had told their parents they were staying over at each other's
after the movie, so we were all free for the whole night. Which is
probably not a good thing, since we were all just 15 years old. But at
least we had someplace to go.

We hung out for about half an hour, and I even bought us tickets for
one of the movies that started at nine o'clock, ripping them in half
while my two friends giggled. I gave them each half a ticket stub and
smiled, telling them to put them in their purses and forget about
them. If their moms or dads ever wanted proof, or just happened to be
snooping, it was always good to have a little something handy. After
that I called Deke, and he was close by anyway. He knew where we were
gonna be, I'd told him everything.

My friends were dressed nice. We all were, but still casual, you know.
I was just wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but nice ones, acid washed and
the kind that really hugged my butt and hips and thighs, then flared
out at the bottom. They were really comfortable. No bra, just a white
t-shirt with the Power-Puff Girls on the front. They were cool and a
soft black leather jacket over that. It was nice and seriously
expensive, like two hundred dollars, but I had the money and the hard
part had been persuading my dad that I'd paid like 30 dollars for it.
It wasn't a thirty dollar jacket, no way. But he wasn't much for
fashion, so I think he believed me.

I had my long blonde hair loose, just a little makeup, some of that
bubblegum lipstick cause it looked nice, but it tasted like bubblegum
too, which I liked a lot. Kinda sweet, you know. Heather had some
makeup, a little too much maybe, her lips were red. Way too red, but I
didn't say anything. She was wearing a short white skirt, but not as
short as I imagined earlier when they were talking about it. It was
okay, sort of loose and pleated, falling to mid-thigh. She had a
little halter top on, kind of a burgundy color, with thin little
straps over her thin shoulders and I could see her bra straps
underneath those. She had small breasts, not tiny, but smallish and I
told her she should just take off her bra cause the straps were ugly.

"You think so?" Heather had asked, and I nodded. Debbie nodded too, so
we all went in the bathroom and waited while Heather went into a stall
to take off her bra.

Debbie looked nice, a lot nicer than she did at school. Probably
because she let her black hair down, just pinning it back out of her
face with a pink barrette. That and she was wearing a nice outfit, a
black skirt that was kind of long, about to her knees, but nice and a
white blouse, like the ones we wore to school, except better. It was
made out of silk, or something that looked like silk, really soft and
smooth. She didn't have any makeup on though, so I asked her if she
wanted some of my lipstick.

"My mom doesn't let me wear makeup." She smiled shyly.

"You're mom ain't here!" I giggled. "Here, look at me."

Debbie turned and I put my lipstick on her carefully, looking at her
soft full lips mostly, but I looked into her eyes too. They were deep
blue and again I had like the weird feeling that I wanted to kiss her.
Right there in the bathroom and I felt my heart going a little faster.
She was getting pretty now, especially now, dressed nice with her soft
black hair brushed out. She had the shiniest hair. I wondered what
shampoo she used. And she smelled good too. Not perfume, just soap,
like some lilac smell, just faintly. I liked it a lot.

"Kiss me." I told her, feeling my heart thump, and that wasn't what
I'd meant to say at all, but I'd said it so softly anyway. "Put your
lips together, like you're kissing somebody." I said, a little louder.
Deb gave me a funny look. "Like this, you know."

And I made a little kissy face and we were so close, when she did it
too I almost did it. But I didn't, I just watched her pretty blue eyes
and put the lipstick on her slowly, telling myself I had to forget
this stuff. Debbie was a girl, I was a girl, it wasn't normal.

"How's that?" I smiled, trying to act normal and Deb licked her lips.
"Don't do that!" I giggled.

"It tastes like bubblegum." She grinned, blushing just a little cause
she'd probably worn makeup like twice before in her whole life.

"Well, yeah," I giggled too, "it's sposed to." And I sighed inwardly,
but at least Deb didn't know what I felt, she had no clue I wanted to
kiss her sometimes and that innocence just made it better for me, or
worse, depending on how you look at it.

Debbie looked at herself in the mirror, checking out her soft pink
lips for a second until Heather came out of the stall. She'd tucked
her bra in her purse and now could tell why she'd been wearing it.
Heather had bullets for nipples, they really stuck out hard.

"Is this okay?" She looked down at herself doubtfully.

"Yeah." I nodded, thinking it probably wasn't. Some guys were going to
be staring at her as we walked through the mall, you could count on
it. She was already cute, with her curly brown hair and pretty face,
but dressed like that, with her nipples plainly visible? "You look
great." I smiled and so did she, feeling relieved I think that I
hadn't laughed or something.

"There he is." I gave a little wave, as if Deke would miss us somehow.
Three teenage girls dressed for sex standing on the wide sidewalk in
front of the mall. We were getting a lot of looks and I enjoyed it,
actually, especially from the older guys, the men in their thirties
and forties, walking with their wives. They stared at us and their
wives knew it and every now and again one would say something to their
husband, or even jab him in the ribs. I sort of wished my dad would
walk by, but that would have been a disaster, probably.

Deke's BMW pulled up and he was alone, thank god, but he wasn't stupid
by any stretch. Still, I could just picture him pulling up with a car
full of his homey's ...I'd have turned around. I opened the passenger
door for Heather and Debbie, then I got in the front seat while they
climbed into the back. As soon as I was in I leaned over and kissed
Deke as deeply as I could. He had his hand on my shoulder, and his
tongue pushed into my mouth and I sucked it greedily for about two
minutes, a long two minutes. That was just for Heather and Debbie's
benefit, of course, but mine too.

My friends didn't say a word, they just watched us, probably in shock
since I hadn't told anyone, not even Jen that my boyfriend was black.

"Mmmm..." I smiled, drawing back with a deep breath and looking back
at Heather and Deb. "This is my boyfriend, Deke. This is Heather," I
nodded my head at her, "and Debbie. My friends from school."

"Hello Ladies." Deke smiled at them and offered his hand slowly,
twisting a little in his seat. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Heather took Deke's hand cautiously, unsure of herself and smiling
nervously. "It's um, nice to meet you too." She finally said, letting
go of Deke's hand and maybe even blushing a little. Deke is a good
looking guy, that he was black didn't matter at all in that sense. For
me it had made him even more attractive that first night we'd met,
maybe Heather was feeling the same way, I wasn't sure.

"Hi Debbie." Deke turned to her next, still holding out his manicured
fingers for her to touch and giving her his best smile, which was
pretty devastating when he wanted it to be.

"Uh..." She swallowed hard. "Hi." and just touched his hand briefly.
"You're um...I didn't know that, I mean..." Her blue eyes were open
wide and she looked like she wanted to bail.

"Sammie didn't tell you I have brown eyes?" He tilted his head, still
smiling. "She didn't tell me how beautiful her friends are either."

"Have to spank me later." I giggled.

"Maybe, maybe..." Deke grinned at me and turned around so he could
pull out, we were sort of holding up traffic in the mall's loading
zone.

I talked some while we drove, heading north generally, which surprised
me. I didn't know where we were going; Deke hadn't said specifically,
just that we'd go to his place. I thought he probably meant someplace
close to the college maybe, or hopefully not someplace in the 'hood,
as he liked to call the predominantly black neighborhoods on the
southeastern part of town. But we were going north, where middle and
upper-middle class families lived, like mine, and my two friends' in
the backseat.

And I talked, and Deke talked too. I'd say something like "Deke's
going to college, what's your major again?" Like I didn't know, and
he'd have a chance to be charming and talk to my friends without
really coming on strong or anything. It was just normal, pretty much,
except for the fact that we were all about 7 years younger than Deke,
and white. I could hear Heather and Debbie whispering behind us,
giggling softly, and they had to be talking about me and Deke, that
was expected. I seriously doubted either of them had ever met a black
guy before, much less touched one, even briefly. And they'd for sure
never seen a white girl kissing one. It isn't that there was anything
wrong with any of us, it was just where we lived, how the world worked
for us right then.

"Here we are." Deke said finally, pulling into a wide driveway after
about a twenty minute drive, which wasn't bad for that town. "This is
my parent's house," he was smiling at me then because this was the
last place I expected to see. "They're not home though, off to Europe
for a couple weeks. Dad wanted to go to Jamaica, but mom wants to see
the Eiffel Tower." Deke shrugged with a chuckle. "Guess we know who
makes the decisions around my house."

It was a nice house, much like mine, but more modern. It was all
poured concrete and glass, really with a nice yard and everything.
Whatever it was that Deke's dad did for a living, he must have been
pretty good at it. I'd already known that Deke wasn't poor though, as
much as he wished he was sometimes. Maybe he resented his dad, I'd
heard of that a little, but I didn't know much anyway, being just 15
then. But it makes sense, and I'm sure his parents put a lot of
pressure on their boy to make good in his father's footsteps. I wasn't
even a boy, but I'd already gotten some of that from my own dad, not a
lot, but he could push me sometimes and I didn't always like it. Being
the son of a successful man was probably a lot harder, and I don't
know but I imagine being the son a successful black man carried it's
own unique responsibilities.

Deke probably just needed some escape from the pressure, I thought.
Being a nigger pimp, talking and acting like he'd barely got through
eighth grade, maybe it helped. I was just glad he wasn't putting on
that act for my friends. He'd spoken like what he really was, a smart,
educated man with a friendly and outgoing personality. I doubted it
was what Heather or Debbie expected and by the end of the drive I
think they were a little more relaxed, maybe even a little impressed.
Deke wasn't anything like a high school kid, that was for sure.

"Wow, neat house." Heather said as we got out of the car. "You live
here?"

"No, not anymore." Deke smiled at her. "I used to though, now I just
sneak home once in awhile, you know, get some real food. Ask dad for
some money." We were smiling back at him. "But then he makes me wash
his car, so..." He shrugged. "...I stay close to the university
mostly."

"Did you meet his parents?" Debbie asked me. We were following Deke as
he led us into the.

"Mmmm...Nope, not yet." I said, looking pointedly at Deke with a
little smile.

"Why not?" Debbie persisted, and I guessed it was just her innocence
or something, because the question seemed kind of personal to me.

"Ah, that's my fault." Deke admitted, holding the door open for us.
"My dad's a little...prejudiced, I'm not sure what he'd say if I
brought a white girl home."

Not to mention a 15 year old white girl, I thought.

"I'm working on him though." Deke smiled, but he didn't look at me.
"My mom would be cool though, she doesn't have a prejudiced bone in
her body."

Hearing a black guy talk about his dad being prejudiced made Heather
and Deb giggle nervously. I imagine they were trying to convince
themselves that they weren't, but I knew better. I didn't think I was
prejudiced, I would have bet money on it, but I knew I was. When I'd
met Deke's friends a few weeks before, I'd been prejudiced, but that
might have been reasonable too. If three white guys showed up dressed
and tattooed like them, I'd have been just as worried. So maybe I was
just prejudiced against criminals and gangsta hoods wearing old DTox
sweat pants and jailhouse tats. That made me feel better anyway.

Once we were in the house we could hear some music going and I don't
know what it was, some serious rap and it wasn't Eminem. I love
Eminem, and D12 of course, but guys like Fifty Cent? I wasn't into it.
Nelly was okay though, he was good to fuck to and Deke played him a
lot in his car when we were having sex. Whatever it was, it was loud
and Deke rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, I have some friends over. They don't have music where they
live, I guess." He grinned and led us through his house, giving us a
little tour and pointing out the important things, like where the
bathrooms were, and the kitchen is there, the dining room... "Like a
museum, huh? I couldn't go into the living room until I was 13 because
my mom was worried I'd break something."

"Really?" Debbie laughed.

"No." Deke laughed too. "I'm just messing with you." He walked a
little closer to her, putting his hand lightly on Debbie's back, she
didn't seem to mind. "You're not going to believe everything I say,
are you?" He asked her, teasing just a little.

"I don't know." Debbie stuck out her tongue a little, the way she does
when she's embarrassed, and her face turned a little pink. "What are
you gonna say?"

"Heh!" Deke rubbed her back then, laughing at her. "Whatever comes
into my head, probably. I'll be careful though, okay?"

"Okay." Debbie nodded, looking at him, and then down smiling self-
consciously. It was nice getting attention from a handsome man.

Heather naturally wanted her own little bit of attention, now that
Debbie was getting some and smiled at Deke asking him if he had any
brothers or sisters, especially a younger brother maybe.

"Nope." Deke sighed, pausing for a second so Heather would step up
beside him. He was touching her too, just a little, guiding her down a
wide hallway with Debbie and me following close behind. "There's just
me, I'm afraid."

"Oh." Heather said, not bothering to hide her disappointment and I
knew Deke had to be happy with how things were going.

"I have a lot of friends though." Deke smiled at her, giving Heather's
bare shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Let me introduce you."

We'd reached a sliding door, all glass and vibrating from the music,
the deep bass coming from the other side. Deke slid it open and we
stepped inside what must have been the family rec room and it was
pretty nice. Real big with wood paneled walls, a big screen television
mounted in the biggest entertainment center I'd ever seen. It was
huge, and had books, movies, the stereo that was blasting. There was a
big sofa and some chairs around that, and on the other side a pool
table and a rosewood bar that looked pretty awesome, really nice with
four stools and a mirror and about a hundred liquor bottles neatly
lined up on the shelves. There was even a wine rack and one of those
holders for glasses, hanging from the ceiling. It was a lot fancier
than my dad's little liquor cabinet at home. Opposite us we could see
a swimming pool outside and a hot tub, all lit up in deep blue, with
some patio furniture and all the stuff you'd expect to find.

What was unexpected, for my friends anyway, maybe even for me, but
only a little, were the seven guys who were in the room. They were all
black, of course, and I recognized BMF right away. It's hard to miss a
guy six and half feet tall and weighing 300 pounds. Jo-J was there
too, and Chilly, but at least they were dressed a little nicer than
the last time I'd seen them. All the guys were dressed decently. Not
in suits or anything, like Deke was, but in normal clothes. No
stocking caps or bandanas, or baggy shorts falling halfway down their
asses. The other four I didn't know at all, but they weren't bad
looking guys. Average looking for the most part, with skin ranging
from light brown to serious black. You get the idea.

I sorta wished Deke might have invited a couple token white guys, just
so we wouldn't feel so...white. I smiled to myself thinking that, but
it was true. Some other women would be nice too, really nice, but
there was just the three of us. We were the minority now, racially and
sexually and it was a new experience for Heather, Debbie, and me. I
couldn't speak for them, but I felt suddenly very vulnerable,
very...alone, even though I had Deke. He was my boyfriend, and I knew
he'd take care of me, but still...bad enough being just a 15 year old
girl. Being in a totally new and unexpected situation, and being in a
strange house at night with eight black guys staring at you definitely
qualifies, that's scary.

It must have been a lot worse for my two friends.


=-=-=-=-=-=-={~}=-=-=-=-=-=-=

End of chapter seven

rache696@yahoo.com
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm

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